Rucking Awesome.

My rugby friend, Kha, texted me saying that there would be rugby today at 5pm on the fields. If I was going to play, it was now or never.

In the beginning days in Khon Kaen, we had lessons on Thai customs and how to be culturally appropriate. Girls and guys don't touch unless they are dating. We were told that if girls went to play soccer with the boys, they would not pass the ball. To this, I thought fuck it, I'm playing.

At Khon Kaen University, there are 40,000 students. Each major has a building which is called a faculty. They have faculty games where students play different sports against other faculties to see which faculty is supreme.

Kha texted me saying he could not play today, but others would be playing. He would come by the field to meet me, introduce me to others, and play later in the week.

I put on my rugby shorts, grabbed my cleats and left. I took a deep breath, walked up to the fields, sat on the bleachers, and laced up my boots. There were about 20 men on the field and some girls on the bleachers. Here, I stepped into an unknown abyss of shattering cultural norms and playing the game that I love.

I walked up to the group of guys under the uprights and asked to play. They handed me a ball and I began passing to some guys. The told me they were the faculty of humanities and had been playing rugby for a week. I took a deep breath and knew despite the language barrier, I could do this. If I can coach mini rugby, I could coach Thai men. The guys circled around me and looked at me like I was a prodigy and could turn a team of non-ruggers into champions.

This team consisted of all sorts of people. One player, Gong, was in his school uniform and played while wearing his satchel, some were basketball players, some had never played a sport before, and some just sat in the grass. If this were Dodgeball, we were the Average Joe's on steroids. But these men had the kindness of the Average Joe's as well. They thought I did not bring a water so they bought me one. They tried to practice their English with me and I would practice Thai. We exchanged many laughs and smiles, as that was a much more effective method of communication than broken languages.

I told them they could ask me anything about rugby and I could help to the best of my ability to improve their skills. Of course, the first thing they wanted to know was how to drop kick (to my teammates: yeah, that's right. Start laughing now). It was time to fake it, 'til I made it. I grabbed the ball, bounced it on the hard ground, and whiffed. Some could say I pulled a Hannah Hoover. That ball made zero contact with my foot. I was a prodigy turned fool within the matter of seconds. I tried to play it cool, and tried again. Thankfully, it was a decent boot.

Next, they asked how to ruck. I had one guy place the ball, one act as the opposing team and then there was me...I don't think the boys thought I was actually going to ruck them. I went in at half speed and accidentally laid the kid out. This is the moment that I gained their respect on the field, something I did not expect to happen.

Next we worked on running lines and catching the ball at pace. Finally, they asked for help in the scrum (thankfully, it's only 7s, so much simpler). I explained to them how to bind properly, get low, and drive. When they scrummed down with me, they were awestruck at how low I expected them to get. Alex and Kate, you would have died laughing at their pain. They were shocked by my strength (So were the pants I ripped last night--I've now officially ripped two pairs of elephant pants in Thailand. Yes, yes, the baggy pants. I'll stop buying pants and keep doing squats). I do not think they have the same love for the front row as we do.

Finally, it was time to scrimmage. I thought it was just going to be touch, lordy was I wrong. It was a full blown game of tackle rugby. Their tackles could be described as a koala jump and a dog dragging a stick across the ground.  I will be avoiding contact like the plague until the tackling form makes a 180. But, the boys surprisingly kept passing to me, were excited to scrum down with me as the hooker, and play a game of rugby (kind of).

I'm thankful for these guys restoring my faith in the international rugby community, their kindness, and inclusivity. Here's to a semester of experiences, foolishness, and (wo)men's rugby.